For over a year, since I had my breakdown (did you know that? It was in December of 2014) I have struggled and felt my very being was under attack. I've known for a long time that the thoughts and beliefs in my heart and mind cause me more pain than anything anyone could say or do to me. When the data that surfaces is the loathing you have for yourself, underneath all the positive affirmations, when you come to grips with the reality that YOU are your biggest threat....it's (well at least for me) crushing. I was never lieing to myself or to others, I did love myself...the parts I was conscious of..or I believed I did.
When it comes to a point where you realize that your ralationships are broken, all the ones that mean most because YOU are broken It’s..HARD… There can be shame associated with that idea, but really, that realization is the birthplace of the healing that you need. No one seeks The Healer until they recognise they need Him and what for. Coming to the end of your hope, the end of your personal ability to change is -sometimes- the only way to find The Healer. He is there all along, but it seems, we sometimes don't open our eyes until we are at the end of our understanding and when all our “tools" have seemed to fail. Love of self is important, but love of God is vital.
The tools I used before that time are and were effective for accessing His grace, the love that surrounds me, but when my little crack became a rift with added pressure of grief and single/married motherhood of teens.....the tools were trite patronizing answers to a fathomless pit of questions and despair. I felt as if my soul had been ripped apart and the very fabric of my eternal being was decimated. It wasn't really because my mother died, it was because I was already dying and in the moment I should have turned to God most, I turned my heart against Him....much like a child that doesn't get their way, I threw a tantrum.
I didn't dare to hope. You see, a religious conference talk that seemed to give so many people peace, really ripped my hope apart. As I listened to a man who I believe speaks as a mouthpiece for God, I heard a limited God, a limited promise, a limited Saviour. My emotional and spiritual life has been saved time and again by holding to the promise of scriptures that assure God's strength, power and desire to help me, and this talk seemed to me to say "You'll just have to tough it out until the next life...." I am not claiming that what I heard was the intended message of the speaker.
So, I'll be honest, if my only option in this life is to suffer through it, I'll take death...today. In the excruciating moments of torture of mind and soul, it is the promise of healing and comfort IN THIS LIFE that have kept me from the unthinkable. It has been devastating to me that when I have born a witness of that promise, I have been met with the hatred and judgement of people who told me that because of that conference talk I was apostate, or "unChristlike", judgemental, hateful, uncompassionate, etc. But really, having been in that deep despair, having been to the edge of the cliff of suicide, I know the forces that pull over the edge and the ones that bring back. The force that pulls to the cliff is the belief there is no way out except in death. The promise of Christ's Grace, of His love and healing, His sustaining power and influence in my life pulls me from the despair of pain and grief. I have healed from things my Christian psychologist said I could only hope to cope with. I have overcome things that many believe to be permanently damaging, I have been able to help others through their despair and grief too.
I have some things in my life that God chose not to heal. I had a hysterectomy instead of being healed. I understand that sometimes the healing comes in a direct way and sometimes in a way less appealing or pleasing. I had that hysterectomy after an answer from God that it was the path He wanted me to take. I am not adverse to going the medical route for healing, but I would have lost more than my uterus and more than my mind if I had not learned early on to seek healing and guidance from God. For those who need healing and hope, who are facing that despair of depression, anxiety, shame the answer may be a path through medical science and psychology, but the guidance of the Holy Ghost and the power of The Healer (Jesus Christ) is what will make the difference between the darkness overcoming you and the light of Christ enlivening you.
There is no compassion or Charity in validating an illness rather than validating a person. There is no kindness in reaffirming permanent brokenness rather than extending hope for healing. One thing I know for sure is that a person who gives up on healing gets less of it than the person who holds onto the hope for it. I’d rather extend a voice of hope than reaffirm the voice of fear and despair.
Jesus said over and over that with faith we could do all things, that even mountains could move, depression is a mountain, surely He can move it, anxiety is a mountain, surely He can move it. Pain is a mountain, He can move it. When He ministered on the earth, the record shows that He healed all that came to him with willingness and faith. Learning to assess to truth of my faith helped me to accept more healing into my life. Learning to recognize my lack of faith was the preparation I needed to put my heart and ind to strengthening my faith through prayer and study of scripture. So this is my witness: Jesus Lives and because He lives there is hope. He lives and because He lives there is healing. He took upon himself our sin and our anguish that we might not suffer if we turn to Him. He loves each of us just as much as He loved those He came into contact with in His ministry on earth and His power to heal has not diminished in as much as He is infinite and eternal as is His sacrifice and victory. In Him I trust. In Him I place my faith and my life. To Him I give my heart and all my pain, in Him I am healed.